Kuroshitsuji Rewite Part One: Roses Love
by Enchantress Nova
Summary: This is part one to an epic rewriting of Kuroshitsuji starring grell and will end SMxGS. Part 1 is the telling of Grell's past as a human spanning childhood and career, friends, enemies and love. Worth the read believe me.
1. Roses Yellow

_A/N: This is the first story in a series which will basically rewrite Kuroshitsuji, starring Grell Sutcliff and will eventually be Grell x Sebastian. I will not mention dates, war titles etc for no other reason than it will make this story unnecessarily complicated. This story is assuming Shinigami had a human life before becoming reapers and believe me this story will be worth the read. Everything adds up eventually and in later chapters you might want to pay attention to character descriptions ^^_

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><p><span>Chapter One: Roses Yellow<span>

By Enchantress Nova 

Grell had been born to Lord and Lady Sutcliff, both beautiful individuals. The Lord's dark brown hair framing his face matching his handsome grey eyes, a strong man with a powerful title and dominating personality to match. Lady's hair fell long and curled in its scarlet tresses, a beautifully pale and elegant woman, her most loved feature being that unmoving sweet smile.

Jonathan Sutcliff was their first born, other than his elegant chin he was the spitting image of his father and therefore named by him as well. Grell was the youngest, and the spitting image of his mother except for her curls, she had named him and loved the name Grell. It suited her son beautifully.

And finally there was their maid, Annu was a dark skinned woman hired at the young age of thirteen after her mother had passed away no longer servicing the Sutcliff family. The Sutcliff family had always been odd, Lords did not proclaim their love for their wives nor entwine their fingers with their beloved's, Lady's did not show their wrists or let their hair fall loose, eldest boys to the aristocracy did not play with peasants or own a set of clothes for the purpose of letting them get dirty in the mud and the younger was not expected to be so open to the world around him, to ogle at dresses and culture.

But the Sutcliff's did, and Annu was no exception to this rule.

Black servants were not thanked, black servants were not hugged or wished a happy birthday; black servants were not treated as equals in any way shape or form. Annu broke this trend in the Sutcliff house. All family members treated her with kindness and manners, saying please and thank you, they would ask her opinion and ask her to study with them. They taught her how to read and write, even how to speak Latin and French.

They loved her and she loved them, Grell not being old enough for school would help Annu with her chores unbeknownst to the Lord and they were so very close. Grell would sit with his hands parted as Annu wound a ball of wool from them, Annu would wash the dishes and Grell would dry them, and so on all whilst chatting or revising their French etcetera

The little red headed boy loved to read, but mainly he loved it when his mother would read Shakespeare to he and Annu, explaining what they couldn't understand along the way and speaking in her soft tones throughout. Grell had grown his hair long, it lay beautifully down to the small of his back and often preferred to wear the prettier items of clothing.

It was no secret Grell was not like other boys, he would brush his hair and sew his mother's dresses contently, eyeing the frills and strings. Grell was essentially a daughter but as open as the Sutcliffs were Grell was still male and it was up to Grell as to how he would conduct himself.

This paradise had to end however, the contest family life would collapse over one beautiful summer. The kind Lady Sutcliff had fallen ill, her body became week and one July morning she left her bed to kiss her husband, to see her eldest boy off to school, to hug the maid dearly and finally sit in her glorious and colourful garden with her youngest child reading him 'Romeo and Juliette' before sending Grell to put the book away and passing away amongst the yellow roses.

At this darkness fell, the trees shook themselves bare and the very air a bitter hell. Lord Sutcliff died that day too, his spirit anyway, his body a mere shell of the prideful sweet man he once was; the strong body of the Lord seeking to fill his soulless self with his whisky and groans. Jonathan spent even more time away at school and it seemed the only warmth in the manor came from the young Grell and Annu.

Grell didn't leave for school, he could easily study at home plus with only his father at home it was likely Lord Sutcliff would fire Annu and that certainly wasn't something he wanted. Instead whenever his father was making angry noises about the manor, drinking himself into a stupor or other such things Grell would not bother to attempt his studies, instead he would climb the stairs to a room far from his father's study and play the piano.

The soft notes filling the room at Grell's leisure and the child could feel the frustration ebbing out of his tiny muscles, his pale hands gliding over the keys and his eyes scanning the notes upon his neatly stacked pages. Annu, if she had the time, would sometimes stop and listen to him, a smile gracing her full and gentle lips and a sparkle entering her eyes.

Grell turned twelve and was introduced to Mary-Ann, a pretty blonde girl and daughter to a wealthy family and Lord Sutcliff had muttered words of marriage. Grell smiled to the girl in a kind but almost sad way, waiting until he and his father were back home the red head spoke painful words. He could not marry Mary-Ann.

Lord Sutcliff knew what his son was saying, it was not about Mary-Ann, it wasn't about marriage...it was about Grell himself. 'You will never marry a woman...' his father had whispered aloud but to no one in particular; maybe himself. The Lord's eyes already dulled since that fateful summer's day seemed to sink even further into the abyss, his son was homosexual, he liked women's clothes and activities.

The Lord could have disowned his son, he could have had him killed for such a sinful exposure...but he didn't. The dark haired man remembered his beloved Lady and whatever transpired between Grell and himself was exactly that, between them and only them.

'Cut your hair' Grell's father had spoken flatly and Grell's large emerald eyes looked up and eventually he shook his head to decline. His father said it again and Grell continued to refuse until all that became were two males screaming at each other, Annu's hand's stilled in their scrubbing as she heard the bellows from upstairs. She could tell Grell was crying and it broke her heart, when she heard something smash her breathing stopped and she listened fearfully.

She heard both males' voices and she breathed again, her chest heavily burdened by affection as Grell slumped his way down the steps to stand in front of her, the boy had shallow cuts over his face and hands, a few specks of blood over his white blouse and tears smudging the crimson even further down his cheeks.

Annu quickly treated the cuts but asked nothing, Grell picked up a brush silently and assisted Annu in her work and without a word the two let their minds go numb. These episodes continued, more broken items, more cuts, and bruises, and screams...yet Grell continued to decline. Grell's hair only grew longer still.

Grell could not leave his household, his father in charge of his education and living arrangements Grell could choose two escapes. One was simply to run away, it would mean losing any money his mother had left to him when he was 18, it would mean taking away a family member from Jonathan and it would mean leaving Annu. Grell could not take her with him, Lord Sutcliff owned her and where she caught with a rich white son of a lord...Grell could not fathom her punishment.

The second was war. It was seen as an honour to go to fight for ones country and it kept the Lord legally sated but otherwise outdone. It would mean leaving for a long while, until he was either 18 or his father was no longer breathing. Annu would most likely be sold off but Grell had a plan in his mind and Jonathan would not feel the ache of losing a brother but rather the company of a soldier.

Grell was afraid of war, he did not want to die, he liked his home and comforting bed. But with how his father was acting it was a terrible truth that Grell was more likely to survive in battle than he was in his own home. It was decided.

The red hair was cut short, but not for his father's demands. Lord Sutcliff had been outraged by his son's departure and did indeed sell off Annu to work in the fields. The Lord had wanted Grell to cut his hair short as a sign of change, a sign of social protocol and for Grell to surrender his colourful ways to a life of normalcy. No such luck. Grell had cut his hair in sacrifice to his right to expression, Grell would survive the obstacles thrown his way and blow them kisses as he surpassed them, he was fighting for a day when he could grow out his hair and adorn his scarlet apparel. To kiss someone whom Grell loved and not someone whom society say he should love.

He left his home to a world of fighting and harshness, in hopes of surviving to keep the very essence of who he was alive. A fight his father had long since lost. Grell walked through their garden, carriage waiting to take him away from the god awful place, and he stopped for a moment to think on his father.

There was no hate between them, Lord Sutcliff was not Grell's father for that wonderful man had died long ago, leaving behind a wretched shadow of the man to walk out his miserable days whisky in hand. Grell smiled gently as his slender fingers picked a yellow rose from the bush in the garden, how sweet that such a powerful man as Lord Sutcliff laid such feeling with his wife, that he love her so dearly his spirit leaves with her. Grell could not hate his father but instead see the Lord as a physical chore or inconvenience, while he saw his father as a beautiful human being whom he lost years ago.

Still holding the yellow rose, Grell slipped into the carriage and headed to war.

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><p><em>AN: Next Chapter, "Roses Black": Grell is off to war and encounters many dangers including being captured and tortured by the enemy. His cellmate a man by the name of Michael who speaks not a word of English, French or Latin. Does Grell get out of the war on one piece and if so where to next? And what is his plan for Annu?_


	2. Roses Black

_A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews, this chapter has some gory action in it but i doubt that will be a problem for fans of Grell X3 Hope you enjoy ^^_

_Last Chapter: A happy childhood turned into a new Hell for Grell once his mother died, his father violent and unaccepting of Grell's feminine preferences. To escape the danger of home Grell seeks a fight for his own freedom in war. _

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><p><span>Chapter Two: Roses Black<span>

By Enchantress Nova

This place was a Hell worse than God nor the Devil could devise, this was a Hell of man and it reeked of selfish and cruel murder. Grell couldn't believe how quickly time had passed, stories heard and stories made of bloodshed and mangled body parts could be tossed about like the wind, it was the stealing dead man's money or jewels, even a soldier's own clothes could be stripped of him were the right scrounger in the area.

The young red head had watched men he laughed with torn apart, their lifeless eyes peering into his frightened soul unmoving and cold. Grell felt for these men, in was there was no colour, even blood was black despite what you saw, everything was dark and dirty, wrong somehow yet ordered to be believed as good. Grell didn't join the war for patriotism, not politics, not even pride, it was for his objective view point Grell had to witness more than any man amongst him.

He missed his long hair, he never realised how much of a comfort it was for him to run his fingers through his hair but he missed it so dearly he thought he might cry however stupid that may sound. Grell would write letters home to his father and brother, he always received the same message regarding his father's unchanging state and his brother's fine education. Grell would speak nicely of the war, as if he were a proud soldier, it terrified Grell when his brother hinted at wanting to join him there and Grell firmly put to Jonathan that his studies were now and that war would always be waiting.

But the day to day life in war, however soul destroying, could not measure up to the experiences had by Grell starting one Autumns day. Grell and a number of soldiers were on the move and hiding from the enemy, they were seriously outnumbered and if they were caught who knew what would happen. The enemy had heard a noise from one of the men and knew there was at least someone amongst them they could call a foe. Grell had thought to just keep quiet, let the leader of the group decide what to do, but there was a kind man in his troop, he was one month away from being sent home, back into the arms of his loving wife and three children.

Someone had to be given up, Grell saw no other choice and stood out making his presence known, sacrificing himself for his group the red head knew he was in for death or pain, but for all this situation was nothing to do with who Grell was as a person, looking out for others and a willingness to fight through anything for the right reasons, that was how Grell would conduct himself and without regret.

So there Grell was, standing in a dark chamber, locked doors and chains adorning the filthy walls, there was a small opening in the ceiling to the outside world but it was a huge metal grate giving a little light only to make the darkness seem darker.

The red head was weaponless, his left ankle chained to the wall giving him a good range of movement but nothing that could reach the grate or the door. This time there was not an escape for him to choose. Grell could already feel the heavy metal straining against his dainty ankle, the pale skin now bruised almost black.

He stood for a few moments, completely still slightly hunching as Grell took in his situation. He was helpless, the only fight he had would be internal, what he said and what he didn't say, and those were the battles which told the most and made the most of a character. A sudden flush came over the petite male and he stumbled slightly the weight on his foot only hindering him more.

How long had Grell been here? Grell had been tied and blindfolded and transported to wherever this was, he was searched and stripped, his clothes had then been thrown at him angrily giving him only his underwear, shirt and coat adorned with finery by the army, he had then been questioned somewhat, really more to see if Grell was the type to blubber of if they would need to pay him more time. Hours. A day, maybe?

They hadn't fed him and he was tired anyway from his previous shifts and the shock and suddenness that had overcome him it was no wonder Grell was light headed. He then sat down until his mind cleared, twenty minutes or so, the throbbing barely noticeable after that and Grell's vision had returned to his surroundings once more.

It was then Grell caught a pair or dark gleaming eyes amongst the shadows, startling him with a jump as terror jolted through him, just for a moment, Grell's eyes quickly scanned the figure in the darkness and Grell felt slightly more at ease though he was still extremely on edge.

There was a man chained to the wall as well, only his much more restricting and by the look of it painful. The man was thin, clearly not being fed enough but Grell imagined he had been here a long time regarding the grime and his lengthy beard and hair; he was also sitting on the floor, wearing underwear and his shirt and fine jacket detailed with prints of rose patterns over the black material; all stained in various muck and blood.

The man seemed animalistic in his filthy condition, eyes tired but eager and with all the dirt and hair Grell could not place an age on the man; the stranger could be twenty or sixty for all he knew. But worst were his restraints, wrists cuffed to the wall on either slightly above his head on either side, both his ankles chained as Grell's was and chains almost carelessly draped around his body, over his torso and legs, all connected to the wall, padlocks on his body and o the ground. The poor soul.

Keeping eye contact with the man Grell had crept his way closer, looking for signs if fear or hostility as he approached. Eventually Grell sat in front of this tattered beaten man, 'hello?' Grell spoke hoarsely remembering his thirst. The man only nodded slightly, his chains rattling slightly at the movement.

Grell, convinced this man was not a threat, moved to sit beside him back against the wall. The prisoner smelt terrible but Grell imagined this was the least of his worries. After several failed attempts at starting a conversation came to realise the man did not understand English, he then tried French and when than hadn't worked Grell had even tried Latin. None of it worked.

Eventually, Grell had settled for pointing to himself and saying 'Grell' several times and then pointing to the stranger. In a voice Grell could only assume had been saved for just such an occasion, came his low velvety voice. 'Michael...'

There was a routine now; Grell would not wake but instead be woken, usually by Michael's knee in his side as footsteps could be heard down the hall but occasionally Michael too would be asleep at the time the guards arrived and the red head would be abruptly brought into consciousness by a fist or a tug of his hair. He would then be cuffed around the wrists and a smaller chain and cuffs attached to his ankles before being released from the wall and lead by the burly guards down the winding halls to their place of choice. There the torture would begin.

Cuts and bruises, pulling of hair and twisting of limbs, sometimes even burning or whipping; Grell knew they wanted information and while Grell had enough to sate their interest in him Grell also knew two other things. Once they had their information, there would be nothing of interest for the enemy to keep him alive and Grell's whole game was about survival; on top of this Grell would not betray his comrades, he had not joined the army to lose who he is, Grell would not sacrifice his dignity or morals for a day when he could act upon his feelings, he would rather suffer the fight than lose himself in the war.

Grell's clothes were dirty now, nothing could salvage them, his hair had grown longer again and it made him wonder how long he'd been stuck in this pit. Grell smelt terrible too now, he was also mucky, mud and grime and blood caking itself over Grell's once beautiful skin. But after the interrogators were finished and the guards had chained Grell to the wall once again the red head would feel a great relief despite the pain that still wracked his fragile body.

Michael never shunned Grell. Michael never judged Grell. Michael never rejected Grell or tensed in his presence. Michael was nice to Grell, though he never said a word. Grell would snuggle up to Michael's side, sharing their warmth, observing any new injuries his cellmate had been given. The guard would deliver food once, sometimes twice, a day and Grell would feed Michael wondering if there had ever been another cellmate who did the same things before he did.

And this would carry on, day in and day out, Grell only got dirtier and his hair only grew longer...at the same time the fire in his eyes grew brighter.

Grell could not be sure when it had happened, his concept of time all but mush and fleeting whispers, but it was the day Grell received a torture that would either make him or break him. The red head had cried that day, he had screamed and sobbed but he didn't beg. He couldn't beg, his mouth was so sore he could barely make noise anymore.

He had preferred the burning, the whipping even being half drowned with his head held under water than what had been done to him. The guards dropped Grell on the floor of his cell brashly, if the red head survived the night he was going to be questioned more in the morning but until then he was just a red mess to look at, they chained him as they always did and took their leave mutely.

Normally Grell would move immediately towards Michael, to snuggle up and mull over his thoughts. But not today, Grell's thoughts a freezing light where nothing could form but the concept of pain, it blinded him and he felt a freezing hot and a throbbing throughout his body, aching him torturously so. Short rasps of breath scraping against his blood coated throat as he gagged mercilessly and more of the crimson substance emptied itself onto the floor and his clothes.

Grell had no idea how long he had just lay there on the cold floor in the dirt and his own blood, but what felt hours into the relentless aftermath the effeminate male could sense his surroundings a lot better. He was no longer engulfed by the pain but instead observing and feeling the clawed beasts attacks but at least he could think clearer.

Then Grell heard something wonderful, so sweet and beautiful. Michael's voice. It sounded gruff yet smoothly around Grell's tired mind as the dark man spoke that glorious but unknown language, his tone soft and concerned. Grell and Michael were captives, they were tortured day in and day out, did Grell really seem that badly hurt? That in a dark little world were pain is the air they breath Grell inspires a greater concern in his cellmate than ever before?

Breathing loudly and clearly to even out his body's reactions, Grell slowly attempted to move his arms and push himself up slightly, he was shaky and disoriented, his head so heavy and flushed, but eventually Grell was able to move into a sort of slithering crawl along the floor, the chain a cold and noisy reminder of his imprisonment as Grell's now extremely skinny stomach slid over the grimy ground.

When the red head finally reached his comforting cellmate he felt exhaustion through his veins, his limbs shaking and his lips pressed together tightly; unable to sit up Grell simply hugged into Michael's legs and wept even more. Grell had never known a pain quite like this.

The faceless guards had strapped the young soldier to a sturdy table more like a block, they had beat him and questioned him knowing nothing would be answered. Then came the tools and gag device holding his jaw open, just from the facial position Grell had gained a few cuts and bruises, the ache something tolerable but painful. But the torture that followed Grell had scorched from his thoughts.

It was only when Grell opened his stinging eyes towards Michael, his green orbs flooded with tears and stained by blood, he answered those enquiring eyes looking back down at him by pulling down his bottom lip with slender unsteady fingers to expose the carnage of his teeth to the older man. Blood poured freely from his gums and his jaw and cheeks now a black bruised mess he wondered briefly if the pain would take him in the night.

Long lashes fluttered closed, tired and beaten Grell felt his mind weakening and falling apart, he just wanted everything to go away, for the next day not to come if it meant more of this horror. But after a moment o the self screaming sadness Grell felt a warm nudge against his body, Michael's leg was urging him awake.

One glance towards the fellow tortured man, Grell's eyes caught something more beautiful than anything he could recall, behind the man's messy beard lay a warm smile. His straight teeth peeking out from his lips, his eyes smiling with his lips, a fire of determination and embracing heat.

'_Merci Beaucoup, Gratias agimus tibi...Thank you...'_

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><p>Grell survived that night, and the next day and the day after that, and so on. He had been unable to eat for the first week making his stomach hurt, his teeth taking on a smoothness and occasionally nipping his gums further at their razor sharpness but overall the red head was on the heal. Michael didn't talk again after that day, not that it was expected regarding they didn't understand each other.<p>

One day, or night, he really couldn't tell anymore, Grell awoke to find Michael gone and he didn't return later that day or even the next. A numbness enveloped him, questions like 'did they kill him' or 'are they torturing him days at a time' heard but not thought as the red head subconsciously protected himself and only caught onto one understanding. Michael wasn't here with him, he would need to be strong on his own.

Grell's fright overtook him when he was chained in Michael's place, did this mean they were giving up on him? Were they going to keep him for a while and then he'd disappear too? But he refused to answer their questions still, he hadn't gone through all of that for nothing.

Being unable to move around the cell like he had before put things into a new perspective, all that could happen physically depended on who or what came to him, he could not commit any action unless allowed to by the guards. Even worse was the feeding, without another cellmate the guards would hand feed him and Grell felt very embarrassed as they would hold spoon feed him and watch him eat.

He was used to the guard's teasings, they had done that regularly during their visits to the cell when delivering food or just a general check and, of course, during their tortures. But, without Michael there, Grell could only await whatever they brought him be it food or pain with nothing else to distract him.

Grell was still very young, he barely had any body hair and he doubted he'd even be hairier than any girl when he was grown up, apparently he got his mother's genes, so the muck and oxygenated blood clung to hairless skin and his clothes stained black and brown from the old blood and his legs bruised and cut and caked in the same filth as the rest of him.

But he imagined if there were other cellmates in this God forsaken place that he must look very different from the rest of them, they called him 'girly' and 'baby' but mainly just referred to him as 'red'. But when one called him 'pretty' Grell's ears had picked up, not in flattery, but in terror. The men were looking exceptionally merciless, a glint in their eyes promising something terrible before they left.

Grell was worried, despite his maturity and understanding Grell was still an innocent in many ways and mentally steeled himself to whatever might be coming his way next. There was a strange sensation in Grell at that moment and he couldn't quite place what it was.

All suspicions were correct, what Grell assumed was 'the next day', a guard with thick brown hair and a stubbly grin entered the chamber and let his eyes travel over the slight form of the chained red head. A heat bubbled in Grell's throat, he felt like crying and vomiting and laughing all at the same time, was this another test? Were they trying to get Grell to give up information with this new 'type' of torture?

Before Grell knew it his tattered rag of a shirt was cut from him by the guard's knife, exposing the only slightly cleaner skin beneath, and hands were on him. Grell's mind began to race, he tried to keep his facial expression as neutral as possible, he hated those clean but filthy hands on him, he hated those eyes drinking in his vulnerability and he hated everything around him at that moment. He had to do something. He had to do something quick.

Grell let out a whimper when the guard pulled his hair so Grell would look up at him, hand still fisted in the red locks Grell only squeezed his eyes shut tighter until he felt a boot covered foot nestle between his legs. Green eyes blinked open wide in fear of what was to come when he realised his eyelevel met with the guard's crotch and the visible tent making Grell tremble.

The guard moved back, taking off his jacket and shirt letting them fall to the floor, before unbuttoning his trousers revealing his erect member. Grell's breathing quickened in a panic as the man walked towards him again, red organ nearing his face and Grell closed his eyes tightly and gritting his teeth.

Grell felt that fire within himself again, it temped him something vicious as a bloody and dark thought entered his head. Bite the blasted thing off. As the guard pressed the tip of his member against Grell's lips but not pushing, he could easily hold Grell's mouth open and just force his way in but he seems to enjoy the teasing, the smell invading Grell's senses and he grinded his teeth even more, it was then Grell's mind offered him a real solution, granting he could pull it off.

Pushing his nerves aside, opening his eyes Grell did something, however fake it was, that he hadn't done in a long while. He gave a smile. The guard should have seen it coming, but he assumed with a dagger in his boots and weapons only a little ways off that when the teenager offered to 'please him' that loosening the bulky restraints wouldn't do any harm.

Grell continued to smile in his scandalous cunning, Grell was chained at the ankles but had a couple metres of walking space from the wall, his wrists chained to each other but not connected to anything else with maybe a foot of chain length between them. He let the guard's hands grab against his body, he could tell the guard was away with himself ready to devour the expanse of young man that was presented before him.

The guard started grinding against Grell, his pants guttural and animalistic; in order to make himself seen invested Grell looped his arms over the guards head and clasped his hands at the back of the man's head and moved his body rather awkwardly against the guard in return. The guard then bit into the skinny shoulder making Grell gasp and the guard chuckle disgustingly; despite being of physical endowment Grell did not become erect as he found the entire situation nothing but unwanted and vulgar. Grell felt the bile raise in his throat when the guard's large hands suddenly gripped his behind and squeezed his bottom through the underwear leaving fingerprint bruises.

Grell had a goal, the guard kept keys in his jacket with was within with reach regarding the guard left, he also knew he wanted this man dead for what he was putting him though but Grell was at a height disadvantage for the specific place he needed to reach. Grell had thought about just biting off the man's penis, to render him without his sex but the man would most likely kill him for such a thing and seek help. Grell needed those keys and he needed the guard dead.

Grell lifted his left leg over the man's hip, still grinding his unreacting groin against the man but the guard doesn't notice as he effortlessly pulled Grell by the waist so that both of Grell's legs wrapped around his waist Grell's face rested against the guards shoulder a moment, eyeing his target on the man's throat, the deep veins straining at the physical activity he is performing and that's when he heated feeling, the feral, survival instinct kicking in. Running his tongue over his teeth avoiding getting himself bloodier than he was already, Grell's pupils dilated and a predatory grin spread over his cut and bruised lips.

Grell dived his head down hard on the spot of the neck, sinking his teeth in hard and clean and clamping his mouth with a crunching noise as blood spurted out like a fountain soaking Grell's body and hair, his face drenched in the scarlet waters of his escape. Hands had flailed wildly at first deadly contact as the guard began to fall and Grell let himself fall with him. His teeth didn't dislodge for a long time, he shook his head tearing at the existing wound but his mouth never left the flesh, the coppery thick liquid filling Grell's mouth and spilling over his chin and flooding the floor.

The rest was a daze, Grell knew it could all go wrong, he knew there could be another guard right outside and that he'd be captured again or killed, his imagination ran wild with these scenarios but he didn't care. He had to try. He vaguely remembered dislodging his teeth from the dead guards throat, he had used the man's shirt to clean up his own face and hands before putting it on and covering the stains with the guards jacket and even stripping the soldier of his trousers and boots which were all too large for Grell but he wore them anyway.

This attempt turned out to be Grell's greatest decision to date, turned out the chambers were sealed tight but once someone got out of the cells it was a doddle. The guards seemed to stay in a separate part of the building all together and Grell walked right out the door. Simple as that.

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><p>Grell looked for any landmarks and stored a few away quietly in his memory, and in what seemed like a lifetime and yet no time at all Grell had reached familiar territory, he was taken to be stitched up and cleaned and eventually met with the higher ups to reveal what he could about his experience, leaving out certain details of course, and waited out his recovery. Although Grell knew there were plenty places just like the one he was in, the same one that thanks to Grell's direction was found and destroyed, but he had survived it and was sure he'd heal just fine, if not, even stronger than before.<p>

Looking into a mirror Grell severely wished that he hadn't. His usually silky scarlet hair was still matted and there were split ends all over the place, Grell had so many cuts and bruises he almost hadn't recognised himself, and his body was much the same. Normally one to eat only part of a meal Grell had been surprised by his burst of appetite once he was faced with real food again, being of a wealthy family he was treated better than the lower class soldiers but there were so many privileged males he didn't stand out in regards of class.

Grell heard rumours the fellow soldiers had made up about his time held captive, some playing it up and some shrugging it off, truth be told Grell couldn't care less, he was tired and sore and had larger things on his mind. He had definitely changed while in the cell, not that what he was was any different, simply he had seen, experienced and learned as any human does from living. The world had darkness because its people can sense darkness, we feel pain and fear and despair, Grell would be forever a new version of himself since that experience and as he was a constant his mind would not think in words, he simply existed as an entity that had been bleeding not so long ago, that had been trembling and fearful, he had been close to the sweet silent Michael and had tasted the blood of man ripped free by his own fangs.

Yes Grell was changed but he was simply a stronger, more experienced and hardy version of himself, that meant he was living, and for the simple reason that Grell could thank his torturers for their, albeit cruel and unintentional lessons left Grell without regret or withes for the nightmares to leave. The nightmares were his spoils.

And it seemed Grell's heart was being rewarded as while there was still only talk of him rejoining his comrades in combat the red head had been given all of his mail that had gone unrecieved during his capture, their contents Grell's gold and release. At first they were ordinary letters, talk of school and such, a mention of a girl Jonathan had taken a shine to but who was not going to be an easy wooing which made Grell smirk with his newly styled teeth.

There was an inquiry as to Grell's not writing back and then the dates skipped a long period of time, Grell assumed one of the higher ups had informed the Sutcliff house of his capture and thus communications were pointless until one short beautifully bitter letter was sent three weeks prior to Grell's return.

'_Dear brother,_

_I no not if you will receive this letter and while my hope is still alive and true fear of losing you to the devils who take our countries blood, were we not men I would find the very thought life crippling but I believe in you as a soldier and my beloved younger brother. My only wish other than your safe return is that you would not have to read such news as I am about to write to you. Our dear father's habits are seeming to be the end of him, the doctor can do nothing as father will not, nor do i believe he could, remove himself from bed. We are losing him and his end will be soon. Please return home as speedily as possible, father whispers words of you and your company and it would mean the world and love if you could speak with him one last time._

_Apologies and greatest hope,_

_Jonathan Sutcliff_'

Grell read the letter a million times, each word a treasure Grell couldn't believe was in his own tiny hands. Grell would be free soon, most certainly Grell would not need to continue as a soldier, his life close to a new beginning.

Echos of thoughts sounded in the red head's mind, his plans from the beginning, Annu and himself, the future, the uncertainty, the very life that he was now finally being granted. He couldn't contain the filling of his chest and heat in his face, Grell sobbed quietly, to himself and no other, clutching the letter tight in his hands as tears rolled down his cheeks. He savoured every moment of pain, fear and joy, ever since the moment he tore the black envelope stamp of the Sutcliff name pertaining a black rose to unveil his lifeline.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thanks so much for reading the second chapter, I know it was quite long, it was actually meant to be longer but I'll save that for next chapter (originally you were going to find out the plan for Annu and Grell was already home by this chapter but I looked at the word count and thought this was enough for now) _

_Next Chapter: Roses Red_

_Grell returns home and for once in his life things start going to plan, fears and tears only fuel the joy as a better life approaches and holds the red head. Will he adorn his beloved scarlet as he always wished? Where will this new life take him, and to whom?_

_Pretty please review, they are so loved xxx_


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